Mirage
by applejax5
Summary: Zatanna's POV. A night performing for Bruce Wayne's charity event takes an odd turn when John shows up. ONESHOT. Lemon-y, rated M for a reason


**Hi all!**

 **This Story has been bugging me for weeks. Time to write! r &r  
**

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It was a typical Bruce Wayne soiree.

The Chandelier burned bright above the dance floor as the wealthiest of the wealthy danced in their lavish evening gowns and mingled about their extravagant lives, while sipping on the finest selection of Bruce's Liquor cabinet.

And me? I was the evening's entertainment, of course.

The Amazing Zatanna Zatarra reduced to doing party tricks for the creme de la creme of Gotham...Bruce would owe me big time for this one.

Three hours of pulling rabbits out of hats, sawing guests in half, and levitating chairs...all for his charity ball. If he didn't pay me so handsomely I would've refused adamantly, but hey, a girl's gotta eat.

"Hey, Zee, how're we doing?" Bruce questioned as he made his way to me, a heavy chested blonde attached to his arm. I resisted rolling my eyes.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" I deadpanned, "None of these drunken millionaires want to watch me perform." The blonde, she had the audacity to giggle. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Well, I really appreciated you coming out tonight Zee, it means a lot," Bruce's eyes shined with sincerity, "You're more than welcome to stay and enjoy the party if you'd like."

I shook my head and pretended to stifle a yawn, "Thank you, but it's getting late. I'm just going to pack up my things and head out. Have a great evening Bruce."

I gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek before turning my attention to cleaning up my equipment.

The party was thinning out and I had just put the last of my things in my trunk when something stopped me dead in my tracks.

The heavy scent of cigarettes and the faint lingering odor of whiskey.

"You need a hand with that, luv?" He chuckled. My heart caught in my chest.

"John, what are you doing here?" I turned around to face him. He looked ridiculous among all these well-to-dos dressed to the nines, while he stuck with his signature trench coat and disheveled haior/tie combo. I fought the urge to giggle at his ensemble. He never changes.

"I heard there was a damsel that needed rescuing, so I figured I'm the right bloke for the job." He smirked, that flirtatious trademark smirk and I rolled my eyes at him, unfazed.

"Right. So why are you really here? I doubt Bruce extended you an invitation." He snickered and stepped closer, those cerulean eyes brushing over my body ever so slightly, before fixating on my own.

"I'm in town on business dearie, thought I'd say hello to the prettiest magician this side of the pond while I was around. So let's get this trunk of yours down to the car eh, luv?" He moved past me and picked up the handle of my trunk with ease but slightly nudged me in the process, it was akin to an electric shock. My whole body tensed and I prayed Constantine didn't notice the effect he had on me."C'mon then Zee, let's get out of this place and have some real fun, like old times yeah?" John stood at the doorway of Bruce's mansion, my trunk in his hand and waited. I considered my options heavily. Following Constantine out that door meant I woukd surrender myself to him once again, I would feel the heat and get burned. Leaving without him by my side would mean peace of mind and heart, solace from the chaos that John Constantine leaves in his wake.

I chose the pyre.

By the time I had my keys in the lock of my door, John's mouth was exploring my neck, his hands gliding up and down my body. My mind was hazy from the passion...or the shots of whiskey we had previously downed, I couldn't be sure.

We stumbled into my apartment in a blaze, clothes Being torn from our bodies, lips hungerly seeking each others, tongues waging war. John had me completely nude on my hallway floor before he pulled away from me, his breathing erratic.

"God, Zee...you are fucking phenomenal. Everything about you...I can't get enough," he trailed kisses down my neck until he latched himself to my breast, his hand finding the sweet spot between my legs, I moaned as he tortured my clit with slow, sweet strokes.

"John, please..." I begged, I needed him. I was wet and ready and needed him to fill me, to claim me one more time before he disappears again. John Constantine, my mirage of a lover.

He pulled himself away from my chest and gave me a sultry smirk, his blue eyes shinning with lager and lust. His hand kept tormenting my nether regions.

"Do you want me, Zatanna?" His fingers dipped inside of me and I cried out. He was going to make this last tonight.

"Yes, John, please, I need you," I found myself begging, he shook his blond locks and laughed, Quickening his pace with his digits.

"You don't need me that bad, luv, you haven't spoken backwards once." He removed his hand fron the pleasurable onslaught and placed it in my mouth, I sucked my juices up, surprisingly enjoying the taste of my own sex. I looked at John through half lidded eyes and he suppressed a groan.

"Kcuf em, Nhoj," I stated simply, rubbing my sex against the hardened base of his tip

That was all he needed to become undone.

He was inside me in an instant, filling me to the hilt and thrusting as hard as possible, his lips crushing mine. My hands wove through his hair as I encouraged with my hips, the pleasure was unspeakable. I don't know how long we lasted, dancing in that age old dance, but when I came, I saw stars and when John followed, pouring himself inside me, I felt whole. I was united with the one man I truly loved, and even if he didn't love me back, or more so, couldn't love me back for the fear of losing me...for a moment I could pretend he loved me too, and the world made sense.

But, lethargy kicked in soon after and Constantine carried me to my room, and placed me in my bed, only to curl up next to me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear. I fell asleep listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

When I awoke the next day, there was a burnt out cigarette on my nightstand and not a trace of Constantine to be found. I was alone again, my oasis turned to sand again. My mirage disappearing once more. The familiar pang of heartbreak found its way to me and I struggled to hold back my tears.

I had be engulfed in his flames again, coming out a charred piece of ash. John Constantine will play this wicked game because he always wins, always gets by unscathed while the rest of us are ripped apart.

I eventually went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, the sadness being tucked away for a later time (preferably with some wine) when I saw the note he had scribbled on my grocery list.

"Zee,

Thanks for another wonderful evening, luv. I can't wait to see you again, my gorgeous girl.

love you,

J.C"


End file.
